


The Tenth Muse

by WilliamLazenbyotch



Category: 19th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Hypnotism, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 16:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15911685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WilliamLazenbyotch/pseuds/WilliamLazenbyotch
Summary: Vampire Lord Byron takes advantage of his indisposed physician.





	The Tenth Muse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for fail_fandomanon's 100 words of vampire sex (https://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/329285.html?thread=1896545093#cmt1896545093). Rather obviously not 100 words.

The young man made a simultaneously unimpressive and unendearing mewl as his employer trundled him onto the sofa to examine the wounded ankle. Godwin's pretty daughter would most decidedly  _not_  be impressed by his attempts at gallantry now. It seemed that  _somebody_  was presently usurping both his aspired-to role as gallant and his professional role as physician at any event, and he had trouble convincing himself that the tittering that emerged from the dining room was not in relation to this fact.  
  
"If you're going to go about doing all the doctoring on this expedition," he began petulantly, "perhaps it's not so very foolish I should spend my time taking up the pen."  
  
"The problem, my poor Polidori," said Byron leaning far lower than necessary over the prone invalid, "is that you inspire others to doctor you. If pity were but an art, you'd positively be the tenth muse."  
  
Polidori was about to raise some objection to this latest abuse when his eyes caught, or rather were caught by, those of the young Lord. A great many unwitty retorts died on his tongue as something in that basilisk gaze penetrated him, sinking him into a stupor he could not quite shake off and did not quite desire to.  
  
"What you need, I fear," Byron continued, his preternaturally cold hand fidgeting with Polidori's trouser leg, "is somebody to inspire you to write."


End file.
